part0064

Standing in the middle of the bustling road, Padma had a drum and sticks, and she repeatedly beat on it to direct everyone’s attention to her. Aakash, her friend and partner, began yelling for everyone to hear.

“Listen! Listen! People, my dear folks, this is the time of the reckoning. We have been seduced by the evils of our king to accept the Tribals and go along with the fateful plan that everything will be all right. But nah, nothing will be all right.”

He had a burly voice, so Padma had let him to say these things. You needed to have a strong voice, but Padma lacked that or so she thought.

“They steal our jobs, the opportunities, they build up a market and remove us, the Manavs, from the map.” The crowd began to be attracted and Padma was glad. This was the second time that month but people always gathered to listen to them. “Listen, my dear friends! Forget the lies they have fed us. Nothing has progressed in this city. Nothing!”

The crowd began to increase in number; they all nodded at what Aakash said. After all, he was handsome and charismatic. He had a way with words and reminded her of her second brother. She closed her eyes at the thought of her sibling and tried to draw herself away from the meandering thoughts of love and loss. She had to concentrate on the event. She wouldn’t consider this propaganda. This was just bashing the empire and forcing the people to think, because it was important. An idea must be fed to the people, so that when it translated into action, it would create a revolution.

“Come, everyone! Come! Hear more truths about our king. Apparently, he works for an…” his voice turned into a whisper, “an idiot.” He went back and grabbed a portrait. It was handmade and poorly drawn, but it was clear, it was Kali with his long hair and slit-like eyes, but a nose that was caricaturishly long.

“What do they say about men with long noses?” he raised his brows mischievously. Everyone grinned and laughed. No one would have believed, but they were saying all of this in the middle of the street. Ratri, their leader of street propaganda, had told them to choose a suitable place and time. Early in the morning, patrolling by the Nagas was less.

Last time too, they had tried to pull a stunt like this. They had put hand-drawn posters across the city, ridiculing in different languages and saying: YOU ARE A FAILURE, KINGSHIP! It was all over the place and while it didn’t harm the Tribals, it did get the attention of the Nagas, and they had chased Aakash and Padma to the ends of the city, where they had to dive into the river and float along the other side of the bank, where they reached the western part.

Ratri had said that it was all right to be supportive of the Tribals, but on an equal measure. If it would lead to disruption of the Manav life, then such an empowerment and equality was sham.

An owl flapped in the air until it placed its small body over Padma’s shoulder, close to her bright silver hair. Everyone wondered how one could get silver hair at this age, but it wasn’t genetics. She had used chemicals to cover her head. And she had reasons for it. She had been part of a great tragedy in her life and her face if recognized by the king, would mean execution. It wasn’t what she had done but what her brothers had done to the king. They weren’t his greatest supporters of him, even before the Tribal inclusion. They had looked for democracy over dictatorship; and in all fairness, it hadn’t gone too well. Things began to swing against her fates and Padma had to face the dire consequences.

She kissed the corners of her owl’s ears, who blinked at her and narrowed her eyes adorably. That was when Padma noticed a scroll had been tied around her small feet. With one hand now beating the drums, she picked up the scroll. She unrolled it, struggling to do it with one hand, but she managed it and realized what had happened.

Her eyes darted up. She stopped the beating. Aakash looked at her, eyeing her to continue, but Padma shook her head.

“We need to leave.”

He gave a charming grin to the awaiting public and reached out to her, whispering, “Stop getting worried, all right? It’ll be fine.”

“We can get caught,” Padma said. “Ratri sent a message…”

He cut her off. “Ratri is paranoid ever since she has been shifted to a stupid library. Stop worrying and beat the damn drums…”

And that was when she heard it. The galloping horses appeared and the crowd began to instantly disperse, afraid of being seen next to enemies of the state.

There were four Nagas in front of her on horses, and in the middle there was a woman with onyx black hair, so long, it had to be braided.

“Now what is this going on? Seditions perhaps, darling?” asked the woman.

It was supposed to be some kind of threat, but it came off as a seductive comment. Perhaps this woman was working for the Nagas, but the way she positioned herself clearly showed she was more authoritative than just a usual commander. She had an air about her, with her chin up, her angular nose and eyebrows lifted up.

“Don’t kill them. I love the pseudo-revolutionaries!” She clapped with delight.

And that was when the first Naga appeared with a blade, reaching out for Aakash, who whimpered and fell back. Padma had to do something. She also saw another Naga coming, while the rest of the crowd around them simply melted away. As they came close, Padma and Aakash were cornered against the brick building. She tossed the drum on the side and…

Padma whistled. Instantly, the owl on her shoulder launched itself, smashing one of the Nagas on the face. It fell back. The Naga was a tall person, not too muscular like the Rakshas, but with snake-shaped tattoos on their bodies. And for all the toughness they showed, one of them was knocked down by a bird. As the other Nagas got puzzled by the bird attack, Padma took the advantage of the wall, leaping against it, in the process pulling out two long daggers. To the one who had reached out to the frightened Aakash, she flung her dagger.

Padma rolled her eyes. He was not even helping and he was creating such noise. It was irritating on a whole lot of fronts. The other Nagas came towards her, seemingly as she was more confrontational and dangerous. The fact that she had killed the officers of the court meant she was getting the noose or the axe. And she out of all the people knew how horrifying it was to even watch it, let alone be a victim of the draconian ritual.

She couldn’t kill the Nagas, she knew. She didn’t use her dagger, but she pulled out copper coins—panas, out of her pocket. They were reddish and rounder than usual, with the strange carvings of Indragarh’s motto inscribed over it. She tossed them across towards the Nagas’ feet, which made them trip when they clumsily stepped over the coins.

Padma chuckled. They stood up and by the time they did, Padma kneed one of them. He fell back. While the other managed to stand up, launching towards her with a blade. She dodged it, her body rolling on the ground and falling at the back. She tapped on the confused Naga’s shoulder, who looked behind himself and was punched for his efforts.

The other man had no weapon, but he was bigger than the rest. He began to shake his fist.

“I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m done being nice.” Padma flung another of her daggers right across the Naga’s upper chest, where the breastplate didn’t cover the skin. He looked down at it and pulled it out, only to realise Padma had just hit him at the veins. Blood sprayed and he collapsed on the ground.

She grabbed for the body that covered Aakash. She tossed him to the side, pulling the dagger from him.

Aakash stood up, gulping and shivering. They turned and as they did, Padma realized she was standing in front of ten more Nagas. They all had spears in their hands; shields covered them. They were ready to war with a commoner like her. And they stood there, with their weapons, drawn inches away from their neck.

“Oh God, we are dead, I told you we should have gone,” Aakash whimpered, “Please! Please don’t hurt us! Please! I don’t want to die.”

Padma rolled her eyes, but squared her shoulders and came in front of Aakash. She was not afraid, for she had seen and felt something worse than death.

“You really thought you would escape, darling?” asked the lady as she rounded off with a black stallion, with several more men stationed behind her.

“You mustn’t underestimate those you oppose.”

Padma didn’t utter a word.

“Take the boy,” she ordered. “You know where to send him.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Aakash pleaded before Padma was pushed to the ground and Aakash was taken by the Nagas.

To be fair, she didn’t feel bad. Sure, he was helpful, but he was indeed just derailing her mission. The woman on the black horse came on to her feet and the moment her legs met the floor there was a clink sound. Padma noticed a small anklet wrapped around her ankle. Padma noticed how the woman had one limp hand while the other was functional.

“Take the injured and send them over to the infirmary. If they aren’t all right by tomorrow, tell them they are exiled.” The woman said, before her eyes caught the attention of Padma. She had light blue irises that seemed to reflect the colour of the skies.

“My name is Princess Manasa, sister of Lord Vasuki.” The Naga royal studied Padma intently. “I hope you don’t feel bad for your friend. He wasn’t really helping your cause and those who don’t help in your cause should just be debarred from existing.”

Manasa walked over the panas, which Padma had tossed on the ground. “These are coins which were used during the Mahayudh. How did you find them?”

How did she know what coins were used during the Mahayudh?

“I am a collector,” Padma said. Collecting coins had been her hobby. It was something she loved doing since she was seven years old. Manasa handed her back the coin. Padma took it, surprised by the generosity of the Naga princess. She stuffed it in her dangling pouch.

“I like your hair,” she played with it, lacing her thin long fingernails painted, painted a dark ruby red, through her hair. “Is it natural?”

Padma shook her head. She felt like she had a mother at that moment, in the midst of the humdrum market, flanked by Naga guards.

“You are special, my dear,” Manasa continued playing with the silver hair, rolling it in her fist as if it to feel it, and Padma could feel a slight, soft jerk, “quite special. A girl so young who is able to fend off trained men—now that’s a sight I have been dying for, in this godforsaken city. Unlike the Manavs, the Nagas take pride in giving the best of education and warfare technique. Spying is a crucial art they perform, in which the women are more important than their male counterparts. Men are taught about philosophy, but they end up with suras and wines at their disposal while women are the harbingers of knowledge and peace. You remind me of a Naga.”

“Why do you do what you were doing?”

Padma remained quiet. Anything spoken against the state would be sedition.

“Do you hate the ruler?”

Padma looked up at her.

“Ah, indeed, this is where we both align, because I hate him too,” she softly smiled, “My dear, we both, if we worked together, could achieve something wonderful. If you do decide to take my offer, drop into my office sometime,” she said.

So why was she going around the city stopping propagandists? Was it that she was trying to build an army of people who hated the state rulers? But why? What did she have against the king?

“To me, all of this seems like an endlessly tedious affair, with little fruit to savour in the end.” She grabbed her by the arms and began to walk with her, the Nagas trailing around. “And I love fruits. You deserve a good ending after waiting for so long, am I not right?”

Padma nodded. She didn’t know where the Naga was going with this, but wherever it was, she knew she was going to be a part of it. Also, she had never felt what power really looked like until today.

“You work too hard at the wrong end. The real fruit you shall receive, if you do what I say, and we can both get rid of the man you detest.”

“Are there others like me?”

“Everyone failed to impress me except you, darling,” Princess Manasa said. “For your favours, you will be given everything you desire.”

Padma realized that they had reached a building which was none other than the entry gates of the Naga fort. After the inclusion of the Tribals, forts were built that suited them, and Manavs had to work for them to be built. Many detested the idea, but the look of the entire fort was beautiful. She didn’t know what to feel or what not to feel, but she knew aligning with Manasa could be good in the long run. She could either get killed or be revered and rewarded. But she didn’t mind the initial, if it somehow led her to achieve her vendetta against Vedanta.

As they walked along the corridors of the fort, they were closing on the path that led to a short door. The guards departed and Padma’s heartbeat increased. She was in enemy land and this was one of the places she had been fighting against and yet here she was, in the midst of it. The thought of Aakash being dragged to the jail cell did cross her mind, but a parole would be granted by Ratri and he would be free. These thoughts shouldn’t crowd her mind now.

She sat in the magnificent room that had been robbed of its glory by all the books that were kept on the racks. She hated books. She had tried reading a few of them, but none appealed to her varied interests.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, yes, I will tell you, but first…” she took out another pouch from the drawers and tossed it over at the table.

Padma looked at it, confused, before opening it up to find gold and silver panas, karshapanas, surashtras and cowries. Grinning, she held them out in the open. They were no longer valid currency forms, and were only useful as collectible treasure.

“I am sort of a collector as well. I’m glad we have same interests, darling,” Manasa said.

“You can have all of it.”

Padma left the pouch. It was blood money. It came with a price. The point was, was she ready to pay the price?

“Don’t worry.”

“What do I have to do for you?” Padma asked again, this time sternly.

“Oh, it’ll be fun,” Manasa had a glint in her eyes. “You get to play with weapons for sure.”

“I can’t…I can’t do this,” it was hard refusing all of it. “I can’t work for…”

“Me? I am an innocent woman, my dear. You should realise we are aligned more towards peace and non-violence than you know.” She laid her hand in the front, over the table. A voice boomed from the back. Padma turned to see a handsome, black-haired man standing, with crystal blue eyes and a grin that was lazily playing on his face. He had long robes of dark blue wrapped around his frame. He came forward with the same snide, royal attitude, rounding close to Manasa.

“She is right,” he hissed.

By the very virtues, it was clear who the man was—Vasuki, the prince of Nagas or the king. More or less, the Nagas didn’t have a lot of titles to go with in the first place, so they chose whatever suited their names best. That was what the talk of the town was.

Manasa’s voice had automatically turned far more sinister, rasping, as she said, “Because in the end, it comes down to this-either you do what I say and get these beautiful coins as a token of my gratitude for being a valuable servant of the court or you’ll be executed tomorrow for attacking a state official.” Her fist clenched and the smile was not friendly anymore.